Troy
Page 1
Troy (A Jorgensen Legacy)
By ChaShiree M. & M.K. Moore
© ChaShiree M. & M.K. Moore 2019 Breeding Nation Publishing.
All Rights Reserved
By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.
Cover created by Dark Water Covers
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Troy
2. Lissette
3. Troy
4. Lisette
5. Troy
6. Lissette
7. Troy
8. Lisette
9. Troy
10. Lisette
11. Troy
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon from ChaShiree M.
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Other books by MK Moore
Dedicated To Autumn. Thanks for claiming me. I hope you are ready for the slippery, sloppy slope ahead!
Love, Troy
1
Troy
As if I need this shit today. I have been away on a mission for the past three weeks. Apparently, life doesn’t stop moving because I had to make a ‘hunter’ disappear. Some asshole and his backwoods racist ass friends decided they wanted to turn hunting into a two-legged sport. Yes, you heard me right. They decided that hunting immigrants was more fun than wild boar. Dead bastards. I will spare you the gory details of my job. But after all that fuckery, I come home to find out that old Pastor Hanson died.
The thing is, I couldn't very well tell my mom I don’t give a shit. Enid Jorgensen might be pushing eighty, but she still rules the roost. She commands the hell out of everyone around her except for dad. For him, she goes mush. Besides, to tell her I don’t want to go means I will have to explain why. I will have to tell her that Pastor Hanson’s daughter Lisette, my high school sweetheart, the one who left without so much as a word, is the very reason I don’t want to go. I have always been able to act as if I was over it because she was no longer here. But let's get real. Her father just died. She will be at the funeral and I don’t know if I will be able to handle it. She is the reason I have not dated anyone in seven years. Mom knows about the relationship we had. But when she up and left, I feigned nonchalance and carried on.
No one knows how my heart shattered into teeny, tiny pieces and how hard it was for me to not lose myself in the pain. Which is why I cannot wait to be out of this damn church. The moment I walked in, I knew she was here. I could feel her down the very core of me. My veins recognize their drug of choice and I need to leave before I find her and O.D.
“You alright son?” My mom pats my hand as she asks.
“Yes, Mama. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“Your legs haven’t stopped bouncing since you sat down.”
I look down and realize she is right. See? A motherfucking junkie for those soulful, doe eyes. I place my hand on my leg to stop the movement and try to listen as Bill finishes up. As soon as the word ‘Amen’ leaves his mouth I am up and out of the pews headed toward the door. I just have to keep my head down and make it to the parking lot.
I am almost there when I hear “Thank you so much” behind me. Instantly my feet stop moving and my body lights up like a live wire. It knows that voice. My blood used to pump from the beat of her own heart. My cock used to salute to the very proximity of the owner of that voice. Feeling it stiffen between my legs right now, I’d say it still does.
No longer able to deny it, I turn and my breath catches. Fucking mercy. She is even more beautiful than she was seven years ago. I didn’t think it possible. Though some things about her have changed. Like the fact that her tits are at least 2 cup sizes bigger. I momentarily remember how I used to worship her breasts. Over and over again, even before we had taken each other's virginity. I note that her hips are wider but still sexy as hell. And that ass. Before, it was a great ass to kiss and bite before I stuffed my whole rod into her tight-ass pussy. Now though, I could bounce a quarter off that ass it's so rotund.
Rubbing my hands down my face, I try to contain myself. Don’t want to give Enid a reason to go upside my head. I shudder thinking about it. Everyone knows, you upset my mom, my dad gets pissed. He doesn’t like anyone upsetting his woman. I am about to turn around and walk away, so I can go home and whack-off in peace, when she sees me.
“Troy? Is that really you?” Fuck! Why does she have to say my name like I’m 10 inches deep inside her? Which is exactly where I want to be.
“How are you, Lisette? Sorry for your loss." There. Hopefully, I sound calmer than I feel.
“Pretty good, considering. I was hoping I would run into you. I obviously have to deal with this. But tomorrow, can we talk?”
My entire body is doing a praise dance. Except for my head. My mind is telling me to walk the fuck away and keep going. It’s served me right this far.
“I don’t see what there is to discuss. Look, I have to go. Sorry about your dad. Wish you the best.”
I turn, but before I could take one step, something burns my arm. Looking down, I see her hand holding it, branding herself onto me.
“Please. I know you're angry. And you have every right to be. But…”
“But what Lissi? What could you possibly say that would change anything?”
“Troy I…”
“Mama, I have to potty and I can’t find grandma.”
Everything happens in slow motion. Her eyes display all at once pain, anguish, and regret. When I finally get the courage to look down, I stumble back a bit, slightly thrown off by the angel looking back at me. I swear she looks just like me. I can’t seem to take my eyes off this beautiful little girl calling my Lissi ‘mama’. But it’s more than that. I can feel the truth. Without knowing anything else, I know my life was just changed.
“Well hello, cutie. What is your name?” I ask the angel stealing my heart right out of my chest.
“My name is Kari.” She says holding her hand out for me to shake. Jesus. This tiny little hand in mine feels so surreal.
“Nice to meet you, Kari. My name is Troy. I used to be a friend of your mom’s.” I shake her little hand and my whole world falls on its axis.
“My dad’s name is Troy.” She says at barely a whisper. “Are you my dad?”
At the question, I finally look up at Lissi and though she is crying, she manages to nod her head at me. The anger emitting from me must be palpable because Kari slinks back in her mother's side. A move which both upsets me and comforts me. I hate knowing she is afraid of me, but it shows how close the two of them are.
As everything starts to play over in my mind, my brain finally computes it all.
“Kari, h
ow old are you?” I know it is a dumb question, but can you blame me? She left without a word. I need to be sure before I switch up all my shit.
“I just turned seven. Mom says I’m growing up too fast. You never answered my question.” I chuckle. I like her spunk. It reminds me of myself.
“Yes, little beauty. Looks like I am your dad.” Her eyes get big, then squinty with excitement. Looking once again at her mother, I note the deer in the headlights look she is giving me. I say nothing to her though. There used to be a time when she could read me, without words. Let’s see if that is still the case. I see her body quiver as I give her my best glare. One that reads, ‘Oh yeah. You’re going to pay this in more ways than one. You’re mine now.’
Let’s see her get out of this one.
2
Lissette
After handing Kari over to my mother, I follow Troy just like I always did. Who the fuck am I kidding? I always will. I know I owe him an explanation, but the truth is it's not polite to speak ill of the dead. Even if my father ruined the last seven years of utter happiness for me. Don't get me wrong I have been happy raising my daughter, but I missed Troy. Missed him more than I had a right to. So, I know I need to explain, but it's going to be hard. And knowing him like I think I do, it's going to be that much harder.
Walking into his space is interesting. Before I even have a chance to look around, he's on me. Gripping my elbow, he turns me toward him.
"What the fuck, Lisette? How could you keep something like this from me? Seven years? If you didn't want to be with me, I could have understood, I wouldn't have allowed it, but I would have understood. But to keep my child from me, my flesh and blood is inexcusable. Anything you tell me right now will mean nothing," he grits out angrily. Despite how mad he is, I know in my heart that he’d never hurt me. Ever. He’d never hurt me the way I’ve hurt him. I’m a terrible person.
"I'm sorry, T. My father… Just know that I came back as soon as I could. I was going to tell you as soon as I could. I could explain but you're right, it's inexcusable. There are things you don't know. Things I'll never tell you, but I came back as soon as I could and not a day goes by that I don't regret the way things turned out," I say. Before I can say anything else, he waves his hand in the air, stopping me.
"I meant what I said before. You will never leave me again. Tell me you understand that, Lissi." I might be dying. My heart is beating so fast. He's the only person that's ever called me that and I haven't heard it in seven years. I let it wash over me, I bask in it. “Say the fucking words,” he demands.
“I understand,” I say, looking down at the floor.
“Good,” he says before kissing me. Oh God, his lips on me feel amazing. Before I know it, my dress is pooling at my feet and my bra and panties are gone too. I step out of my heels and shiver as his gaze roams over my body. Suddenly, he reaches out and traces his long, lean fingers over my appendectomy scar. That and the tiny muffin top is all that’s changed about my body over the years. I never thought about the scar. No one has ever seen it but me and my doctor. “Lissi,” he murmurs before running his hand down to my pussy. Roughly, he checks my wetness, my cheeks blush at how much there is, and then pulls his hand away. Stripping, he’s suddenly before me naked.
“Fuck,” I breathe. He’s no longer the boy I once knew. He’s all man. All muscles. He grins before pulling me to him. He turns me so that I am no longer facing him. He bends me over the back of the couch, and I realize I’ve never done this not facing him. He slams inside of me from behind.
“You been sharing this pussy with anyone else?” he demands as he fucks me. I don’t say anything. I can’t. His thrusts make it hard to speak. I can barely moan it feels so fucking good. This connection. Him. It’s too much. I start to cry, I can’t help it. “Answer me,” he says stopping his movement.
“No. God no. Of course not,” I scream at him.
“How can I be sure of that? You left me,” he says resuming his thrusting into me. He’s right though and yet he’s wrong too. Still, I cry. I don’t think he can tell since he can’t see me. This feels wrong, but I’ll never stop him. He’s gripping my hips hard.
“I promise you, T. I promise.” Without warning, I come like I’ve never come before. His cock gets impossibly bigger and his balls tighten. He fills me and pulls out of me so suddenly I almost fall, but he catches me.
“Tell me what happened,” he demands. “It won’t matter, I just have to know.” Turning around, I stare at the man in front of me. His face is hard. It’s as though being inside of me meant nothing. I want to ask him the same question he asked me, but I know I have no right. A man like him deserves to be loved, even if it’s not by me. I take a deep breath.
“My father happened. He found the pregnancy test in the outside trash bin. To this day, I don’t know how he found it since it was under so much stuff. He had to be going through the trash for something. He knew it wasn’t my mother’s, so when he confronted me, I didn’t deny it. I foolishly thought he’d make us get married or something. Instead, he beat me so hard, my face was black and blue for weeks after. He was insane. I’d never seen him like that. He kicked, screamed. He said awful, vile things that I won’t ever repeat. He confronted me when my mom was at the grocery store. I never got to say goodbye to her either. That day, he sent me to my aunt's culty compound in Idaho. I’ve been under lock and key for seven years. I’ve had no access to money, except for school things for our daughter, which my aunt bought. I haven’t finished high school, so I couldn’t have gotten a job if I tried. The minute he died, my mom came to that hellhole and got Kari and me out of there. Since I had no ID, my mom rented a car and drove us home. So, believe me when I say, I’d have much rather been here with you than the prison I’ve been in.” By the time I’m done, I am sobbing. Still naked, I move away from the couch and put my dress back on. He’s not said anything for a while. Why would he believe me? In the end, he just walks away without a fucking word.
Why did I ever think that this would be easy?
3
Troy
I am physically sick. I shake as I try to stop the retching going on right now on the sidewalk. He beat her!?! I always knew her father was an evil son of a bitch hiding behind God and the Bible. But I can’t seem to wrap my head around this. He fucking beat her and sent her to be held prisoner somewhere. All to get her away from me. No, fuck that. He did that to save his reputation. What would it look like the unwed teenage daughter of a pastor getting knocked up?
Ahhhhhhh!!!! I scream on my knees, hands on my head. I don’t fucking know what to do with this. My mind was set to hate her and make her pay for it until some of the ire wore off. But this. FUCK! This I am not ready for. It doesn’t help that I can’t beat the shit out of her father. Burn the house down with him alive and tied up inside, with a tape recording of me telling him exactly why he is dying and taunting him with the sounds of his daughter cumming while riding my dick to fill his last thoughts.
I try to stand but I can’t. Visions of a tiny Lissi on her back begging her father to stop hurting her, begging him to just tell me and I will take care of her. Visions of her locked in a room somewhere, swollen and pregnant with my daughter, crying for me every night. I feel like I have been given, a hallucinogen. Oh, God. I just took her like a common hooker against the couch.
I need to talk to someone. But who? Om. My big brother. He is not the oldest, but he is the more brutal of the seven of us besides Brand maybe. I jump in my car, fighting with myself not to go inside and hold her. To tell her I am sorry for treating her like she means nothing to me. Beg her to forgive me. The truth is, with as angry as I am right now, I am not altogether sure I would be able to control my anger. Even with her and this is isn’t her fault.
I pull up to Om’s, waiting in the car and sending him a message. I don’t want to wake Taryn. She is due to give birth any day and I would feel like shit if I interrupted her sleep. When he responds that he is on his way out I relax a bit.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say to him, head in my hands.
“Ah. Lissette. Yeah. Mom told us. I would be pissed too little brother.”
“No. That’s just it. I can’t be mad.” I proceed to tell him what she told me and when I am done, I see the murderous rage on his face that I feel.
“What. The. Fuck? I see why you’re so fucking bent up. My question is though, do you believe her?”
My mind has gone there a few times in the past 30 minutes. But I keep coming back to the same thing. She loved me. I loved her. She knew if she would have told me, my family would have taken care of both of us. She had no reason to believe otherwise.
“I do, bro. You remember how we were back then. There is no way she didn’t know I would have stepped up. No. Her dad did this. Motherfucker is lucky he is already six feet under.”
“Well then. Seems to me, you have your answer. You can either let the anger consume you, especially given the person you should be taking it out on is no longer alive. And lose her again, because you can’t get over it. Or, you can thank God she gave birth to your kid, especially given her situation and start trying to build something together. Either way, congratulations on being a dad.” Well shit. It’s like for the first time, I am allowing myself to feel the implications of what just happened. I am a dad. I have a kid. A daughter to be exact. Holy hell.
He gets out of the car and heads back in after patting my back once again and letting me know our conversation will stay confidential. He is one of the few of us that doesn’t gossip and minds his own business. I am still too pumped to go home so I drive around for a bit, trying to clear my mind. When I finally feel like I have some semblance of control, I pull in and note all the lights are off inside the house. Maybe she went to bed.